


A quick twist is far from a fix

by Webtrinsic



Category: DCU, Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: ? - Freeform, Barry Allen Needs a Hug, Barry Allen is The Flash, Hurt Barry Allen, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-25 00:45:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17111231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webtrinsic/pseuds/Webtrinsic
Summary: Barry twists his ankle badly on a mission and neglects to tell the others. When they find out though, Barry can't help but feel as if his past and future were butting heads.





	A quick twist is far from a fix

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing some Barry whump (BECAUSE THERE'S LEGIT NONE SO I WANTED TO ADD SOMETHING CAUSE I KNOW THE WHUMP LIFE IS HARD), personally I really liked Ezra's Barry even though I thought the movie sucked. (Also I'm sorry I gotta rant this somewhere: PPL NEED TO STFU ABOUT BARRY'S RUNNING FORM. HE LEGIT A NERD WHO GOT STRUCK BY LIGHTNING, WHEN AND WHERE WAS HE SUPPOSED TO LEARN PEAK RUNNING FORM) Okay, that's it. More Spider-Man and maybe some Barry and Quicksilver stuff to come!!!

The pain was something he knew he should have felt before, he was a runner, twisting your ankle shouldn’t keep him down. Well maybe it should, he was  _ The Flash _ for god sakes. It wasn’t excruciating enough to make himself stop, the League still needed his help.

“Hey thunderbolt, you still awake?” Arthur shouted, forcing his trident through an alien that’d decided to snoop around after the whole Steppenwolf fiasco. 

“Yes, yeah, yeah I’m still here!” The speedster assured, continuing to put pressure on the throbbing appendage. Diana slammed past him, head motioning for him to move the civilians out of the way with a soft reassuring smile.

Barry did as much, realizing he could practically go as slow as he wanted on his ankle while still using the speed force. It only made his pain last for an eternity though, he could practically feel his leg slowly giving out as he lifted a middle age man who seemed to be gnawing his own fist off. Moving the kids were much easier, not as much pressure in carrying them out of harm's way. His heart leaped at the very bulky man who clearly weighed around three hundred pounds in muscle mass alone was next in line.

He debated on calling Clark over to handle it, but he didn’t want to seem as if he couldn't do things himself. He knew he was the weakest link, he couldn’t give them any more reasons to simply rip the little link off.

Moving the man out of the way the best he could, Barry tried not to wince as his ankle crumpled sideways once again. The action sending him flying out of the speed force, body shooting out and knocking an alien back before he was rolling down the asphalt.

“Flash!” A modified voice called in concern, along with a plethora of others. Barry body ached, head canting to look down at the scraped lining his cherry uniform before losing consciousness completely.

Bruce may have been able to catch him once, but it wasn’t likely he’d ever do it ever again. It'd be nearly impossible. The Batman was quick to drop over the unconscious form, cape shielding the teams youngest member from the aliens lurking about.

“Finish this,” the bat ordered, Clark nodding in agreement as Diana managed to lasso the biggest creature. Victor blasting it in the back, Superman’s heat vision burning it from above, and Arthur coming steadfast with his trident in the front.

Once the tongs pierced the unnamed alien's chest it fell dead. The billionaire's gloved hand reached out under the younger heroes neck to check for injury and lift his head. The young man’s exposed chin had been cut along with his nose.  His pale skin scuffed black and red, eyes struggling to open once again. 

“Br-” The bat made a coughing growl to cut the boy off.

The man’s dark eyes widened comically in somewhat understanding, “Batman,” he gasped, before adding, “Right, right,”

Bruce wanted to ask what had happened to make Barry tumble so hard, even when he knew the kid often tripped over his feet but never hard enough to send him flying. Yet Barry didn’t seem too interested in their conversation, preoccupied with grimacing in pain.

“Told you all he does is trip over his feet,” Arthur commented, the team rushing over to their fallen member. Barry didn’t know how he didn’t sob at those words, even when his eyes teared up but he could always blame that on the pain.  Superman stepped forward to lift the speedster up, Barry gently batting away at the man’s chest.

“I can walk,” Barry insisted, accepting Victor’s offered hand and making sure his weight fell heavily on his good foot. 

“You took quite the tumble,” the man’s southern drawl peaked in the slightest, but Barry shrugged.

“Let’s meet back at the manor,” Bruce instructed, eyes lingering over the younger man’s scraped skin momentarily before they all disappeared as they did with Gordon. Flash remained still, head lowering to look down at his foot. 

No damage obvious from under his boot, but the pain was enough to let him know something had gone wrong. Gently attempting to lead with said foot proved faulty, sending him to his knees next to the smelly alien body that left him gagging.

Taking another moment to pull himself to his feet once again, right foot hiked up as if he were a flamingo, Barry couldn’t help but notice his mind wasn’t racing. He wasn’t moving, he was undeniably still.

**_Useless. Useless. Useless._ **

He was still, he was useless. Nothing without his powers, nothing! The league didn’t need him, how could they? All it took was a badly sprained ankle to leave him in the dust, to take everything special from him away. Maybe Bruce ordered him home to kick him out. He really didn’t know. He didn’t want to find out either.

There was a free clinic a few blocks over, he’d have to change first. Gently lowering his foot back onto the ground, Barry knew he’d have to run home first. With an inhale, Barry ran pushing through the pain shooting up his ankle and along his shin before falling into his second favorite chair.

Eyes rapidly striking in an attempt to chase his tears away. With shaking hands he stripped the suit away, eyes widening at his swollen ankle. Throbbing and screaming but appreciating the air brushing over it.

 

Opting for sweats, the speedster nearly crawled over to his pseudo dresser before sliding the grey material on before hiding away in his flannel jacket and not bothering with a shirt underneath.

The young man figured the League had likely made it back to the manor and were waiting on him, meaning he had to get to the clinic before they called or sent Clark to pick him up. He’d find his way there, no matter how badly it hurt.

—-

His healing was great, it was normally quick and it certainly came in handy. But he understood his ankle wouldn’t get any better with his constant mistreatment and not being well adjusted with a boot or gauze.

The woman at the clinic looked him up and down with a questing gaze, stopping at his hiked up leg before slowly leaning over and snapping at the second half asleep attendant. The man jumped startled, wide eyes following he gesture which simply aimed at his bum leg before the man hurried to get him in a wheelchair and into a waiting room.

—-

Barry accepted the crutches, staring down at the bulky black boot holding his foot hostage.

“You’ll have to do these exercises every few hours,” the woman hummed blandly, handing over a paper with stretching instructions.

“Thank you,” the young hero praised, awkwardly folding the paper in stuffing it in his pocket when he realized he could hold it and the crutches.

“Mhm,” she ignored, leaving the room only for the door to shut much to Barry’s dismay. Stupid crutches making everything so difficult.

—-

He wasn’t sure if he went home someone would be waiting, it was likely since he left his phone there and Bruce the stickler that he was had probably called him for missing their post-mission meeting.

But the sky had long since gone dark, setting his nerves alight but he couldn’t wander idly through Gotham, not if he wanted to keep breathing. The clicks of the crutches brought up some heads, not helping the hair raising on his arms especially when rough quick steps were abruptly trailing him.

_ Oh god, I’m about to get mugged. They're gonna see I don’t have a wallet and probably stab me!  _ Barry couldn’t help but realize, fighting the urge to turn around because the footsteps were so- the whoosh behind him he knew well. Especially the modified voice that accompanied it.

“Back off!” It was a bark, and the younger man heard something clank on the floor as he grimly turned to face the Bat.

“Aw, you really sent them running!” The Flash snarked, trying to not shake in fear at the man before him who stood straighter to tower over him.

“Why didn’t you say you were hurt?” Barry was sure it was a question but his voice made it sound more like an order; considering he had to answer in a way it was.

“I heal fast, I didn’t know it was as bad as it was,” Barry lied, fingers clenching around the middle bar of his crutches because he’d never truly been good at lying and out of everyone on the planet he cursed the universe that he had to lie to Batman.

The glare he received through the cowl was enough to drop his head, Bruce turned away picking something from his belt before pushing it. The lights in the area spiked and the security cameras that hadn’t been broken fell forward shutting off. Not that it mattered because Barry had seen cooks place tape over the lenses before.

“That’s creepy, and is it a good idea to shut out the lights in Go-”

“Get in the car,” Bruce commanded, head motioning to the Batmobile that rolled up beside them. Barry nodded, finding it troublesome to hop in and find a place for his crutches. The Bat groaned, ripping the crutches nearly sending him toppling over if it wasn’t for the hand now holding his elbow. 

Once the pieces of cheap metal were stuffed behind the seats, Bruce maneuvered him into the second seat and propped his ankle up on the dash. In any other situation, Barry knew he’d be dead sticking his feet up in a vehicle more expensive than anything he’d ever owned, and that’s including his organs!

“Where’s your phone?” Bruce asked, anger still jumping through the suits voice modulator. 

“Home,” Barry murmured, trying not to fall back into the frightened child he was especially when someone older was clearly angry with him. He realistically knew Bruce wouldn’t hurt him like his old foster dads and in some cases moms but his mind still supplied.

_ He could break you in half if he wanted! _

Barry could see in his peripheral how the other man’s jaw clenched, only sending him further into protection mode. As he gently curled his arms around himself in a hug but still tried to seem as casual as possible.

The growl he received, in turn, left nothing for his imagination, the conversation was over and there was nothing his motormouth could say to help his case. The ride back to the mansion went by fast, maybe because Bruce was pushing seventy but Barry could deal with that. He could deal with fast, at least he thought he did. The aches crawling up his leg said otherwise.

When they drove into the Batcave, the young man nearly got out only for Bruce’s arm to trap him against the seat. The car moving of its own accord, and Barry couldn’t help but realize how extra Bruce was for his car to have a lazy susan. It must be a rich people thing.

The league sat up as the car parked, watching the car with worried eyes as Bruce stepped out. The older man pulled the crutches from the back, earning groans from both Arthur and Victor a mumbled, “Dammit Barry,” penetrating the open air.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Diana drawled, carefully coming forward to help bring him from the car.

“It wasn’t that bad, it was the ride home-”

“You still could have told us,” Clark added softly in concern, taking the crutches from Bruce and situating them beneath the boy’s underarms.

Barry hung his head, a sorry on his lips but he knew from past experience it wouldn’t do much. Apparently, his team didn’t exactly notice his unease, especially Arthur who bounded forward nearly making him flinch.

“Lightning you’re supposed to tell us, when you get yourself killed you can’t haunt us in the afterlife because we couldn’t save you from yourself,” Diana gently placed her hand on the bigger man’s chest to give Barry some room. 

“Mr. Allen, I do suppose it's time you ate,” Alfred called, having appeared from nowhere just to save him. His stomach throbbed in agreement, so much so he nearly tried walking without his crutches before reorienting himself and nodding.

“Thank you,”

“Of course Mr. Allen,” Alfred returned, gently leading the young man away from the team of heroes. The quick glance he was given explaining Alfred understood his plight, the boy couldn’t be any more grateful.

“Careful now,” the butler instructed, helping Barry up the staircase and into the foyer before Barry hobbled to the kitchen. 

“Barry,” Alfred called after a second, pulling things from the countertops to clear his space. The Flash sat on the stool, carefully propping the crutches against the counter before he could bring himself to face the man’s gaze.

“Yeah?”

“You know you’re safe here,” The Butler stated, making sure to look him in the eye. Only long enough to make the point before he turned and put on an apron and pulled out the cutting board and thawed chicken from the refrigerator.

Barry couldn’t help but turn his head away at the comment, the manor was their HQ and a good place to hide from the world but it’s classic and unlived in furniture and decorations left little for any true comfort. The tall ceilings and echoes shrouding him in the halls didn’t help either.

Alfred frowned at the action, remembering another boy who’d come through that’d thought the same at first. In the end, he guessed that’d never changed. But it could for the speedster before him.

“You’ll have to wait for a real meal, but feel free to snack all you want,” the butler spoke out, earning a nod. Barry fiddled with his sleeves, leg throbbing badly enough for him to consider asking for something to take the edge off. But when had any medicine worked for him since the accident?

“Would it be okay if I just went to bed?” The speedster questioned, even when it felt as if hands were trying desperately to dig out of his chest and tear him apart. He really did need to eat something, especially now that he was healing.

“Eat first,” Bruce’s voice carried from behind, causing the boy to turn and face his team. Feeling as if he were still the young boy being reprimanded in a foster home, he nodded. His gaze falling to his hands and where his nails were chipped ever so lightly.

He could do that.

\---

The meal may have had idle chit chat accompanying it, but Barry was more focused on sucking the food up to even care what was being said. Something about a Joker copycat found dead with a smile carved into his face even though the Joker and Harley Quinn were on a vacation after the enchantress thing and were currently missing from the world.

Barry couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what the government would do to them, to him. With the distrust in heroes since the Superman fiasco, would they also end up with chips in their necks? Prisoners to the people, disposable soldiers in a war he wasn’t sure he was ready to fight. Would they make him kill? 

Would they break a regime into him? At least make sure he was on the same level as the others, but that would be a task in itself. Maybe he’d never see them again, Bruce had the money to run, Diana was a god, Superman was an alien, Arthur was the king of the ocean for god sakes. Maybe, if they were extremely lucky they could somehow get Victor but he doubted the man wouldn’t be gone the very next morning.

But him, even with his ability to phase through things, he could still be contained. Could still be broken, both mentally and physically. Another reason he wondered why on earth he was here eating dinner with the most powerful people on earth.

Even as a kid he knew his life wouldn’t be great even though in some way he wished it could be, being a superhero was every little boy’s dream. But now that he was here, he didn’t consider himself one. Not when he was surrounded by the real ones. 

“Barry?” a tentative voice called, Diana gave a soft smile as his head jumped to face her.

“Yeah!” He cringed at the high pitched crack in his tone, so did Arthur but at least with his mouth stuffed he didn’t say anything about it. Diana ever so delightful just smiled in turn.

“I’ll be back in town next month on business, I was wondering if you were still available for our outing?”

Barry nodded quickly, of course, he’d made sure he had the day off work almost three months ago. His boss hadn’t been that pleased at him for heckling him about the schedule, but he’d never miss an ice cream date with Wonder Woman.  The grin he received made it all worth it. 

“Outings?” Arthur asked his split eyebrow quirked up. 

“We get ice cream to catch up,” Diana explained, looking as regal as she always did while cutting her chicken. Aquaman barked a laugh before his expression became at least a semblance of calm.

“You’re serious?” The remark almost seemed to confuse Diana as she nodded again, slowly this time as if that’d help. Barry remembered when one of his foster mothers did the same thing except then she’d be gripping his arm as if she were a vice and he almost believed his bones were touching.

She’d also only did it because she was sure something was mentally wrong with him. But he didn’t feel threatened or small when he noticed Diana did it. She always made him feel safe, Barry only hoped she always would, but at times where her power just seemed too great and her sword sharpest, he could almost feel the hair on the back of his neck itch.

“I think it’s nice you have a way to connect,” Clark spoke up, offering one of his perfect smiles. Barry gave a shy smirk, picking at his vegetables, he’d never liked them as a kid. Not because too little kids vegetables are yucky, it’d started that way until he’d got the taste for them. Most kids did as they got older, but not when your foster parents (He’d had many) shoved them down his throat in the times his body just wanted pure sugar.

He’d almost be embarrassed for not eating, but Victor who didn’t eat at all seemed at peace with where he was at the table. Listening to the conversation, no words coming out to add anything but then again Bruce had seemed content in the silence as well. 

“You should join us sometime,” Diana offered, always so polite.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,”  Barry had mixed feelings on the answer, he’d enjoyed his one on one time with Diana but he also didn’t want to hurt Clark’s feelings. 

“Maybe we can find something for the three of us,” Diana concluded for them all, much to Barry’s pleasure. The speedster looked at his plate, head turning in a way he could possibly take it back to the kitchen and not topple over. But Victor surprised them all by standing and taking it for him without a word.

“Thanks,” Barry called out awkwardly, ready to excuse himself before Victor returned with Alfred who was holding a large chocolate cake.  As good as it looked, Barry could feel the fatigue gaining on him.

“I think I’m going to head home, get some sleep,” Barry murmured, earning quick glances that kept him still.

“Barry there's a room set up for you upstairs, you’re staying here,” Bruce finally spoke up, leaving no room for argument. Barry nodded at that but frowned not long after.

“I have work in the morning,” he tried, only for Bruce to continue on.

“I called you out, your friend was more than happy to step in for you until your ankles healed, which shouldn’t be long. Now get some sleep,”

Defeated, and outnumbered by the looks being sent his way. Barry careful got to his feet with a helping hand from Clark before he trudged to the stairs. Awaiting the obstacle of getting up them, only for Clark to gently lead him up all the way until he reached his room.

“Thanks,” Barry yawned, earning the aliens sincere smile before the young man entered. Eyes widening at the sight of the bed, Barry was almost sure he’d never even seen a bed so big and inviting.

Falling into it was easy, taking off his jeans and shoes seemed impossible so he left his feet dangling off the bed as he fell asleep; cold at the lack of covers. There would be a time for him to face his fears, battle his past demons, and get back to work. But for now, he could sleep in the company of the true heroes with the distant dream that one day he could be one of them too.


End file.
